


‘cause you were never mine.

by farfarawaygirl



Category: Chicago Fire
Genre: F/M, these bitches better kiss
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-18
Updated: 2020-11-18
Packaged: 2021-03-10 02:13:37
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,455
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27616067
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/farfarawaygirl/pseuds/farfarawaygirl
Summary: Because, Sylvie thinks, she has only ever been loved in half measures.[inspired by the 9x02 promo, and folklore by Taylor Swift]
Relationships: Sylvie Brett/Matthew Casey
Comments: 27
Kudos: 150





	‘cause you were never mine.

**Author's Note:**

> Taylor Swift blessed us with folklore, and I was inspired. 
> 
> Who knows if this is close to what happens? 
> 
> [pure speculation, and full of what might not happen, all inspired by the promo for 9x02]
> 
> One thing we can all agree on, is that Casey has never jumped out of a moving rig in an effort to get to Severide faster...

Sylvie closed her apartment door, leaned her back against it, and let out the painful breath of air it felt like she had been holding for the last 36 hours. Hanging up her keys, she left her purse on its hook and went to the kitchen. She felt tired. Beleaguered. Lonely. 

So much for that. 

Filling a glass with water, Sylvie swallowed an Advil and chugged the water down. She emptied the glass and filled it back up. When she had come home yesterday she had tossed her mail in the counter and headed for bed, now she looked at the mess of paper. 

Bill. Bill. Flyer for a delivery service. Letter from her Aunt Joan. She traced the familiar handwriting, but didn’t open it. She didn’t want to mix the happiness of the letter with the pain of tonight. 

Unbidden, she thought of something her Aunt Joan was always saying, “God answers prayer, we just don’t listen when the answer is no.”

Well, Sylvie was going to listen. The answer about Matt was no. She heard him; loud and clear. 

Her cell phone beeped. Stella was texting her. 

Stella Kidd: Where’d you go? 

Sylvie Brett: home. 

She watches the three dots appear And disappear. Finally, Stella answered. 

Stella Kidd: everything okay?

Sylvie Brett: no. We can talk later, I’m just going to decompress. Love you. 

Stella Kidd: love you. Let me know if you need anything. 

Sylvie stared long and hard at her phone. She knew what she needed, he just didn’t need her. But, now she knew. Now she had said the words that had been pressing up against her throat for close to a year and a half, and she had her answer. Even if it hurt. 

After she washed out her glass, and put it on the drying rack, Sylvie made her way to her bedroom. Choosing her favourite pair of black leggings and an old white tank top she changed, pulling on a cardigan, beige with red edges. 

God, it wasn’t even a breakup. It was a failed attempt at romance, so why did it feel like the worst heartbreak she’d even known? Worse than Harrison leaving her. Or her leaving Kyle. 

She just needed a good distraction. 

Folklore and cleaning. Sylvie cranked up Taylor Swift, and started to deep clean her living room. Two lines into ‘the 1’ and she wanted to cry. Instead of dusting, Sylvie sunk down onto her couch. The couch Matt had slept on. Which was a shame. She had really liked that couch, but now it was tainted. 

It’s an other day waking up alone. 

She just thought... because he had jumped out of the Truck, and over that guard rail. And it wasn’t in her head, she knows it wasn’t, because Matt had held her so tight. He didn’t hug Severide after a narrow escape. And then when they were back at the firehouse, and she had talked about him always being there for her. 

It not like she made this up!

Olivia saw it. 

Stella saw it.

Emily saw it. 

Julie saw it. 

Kyle had even mentioned it in passing. 

She knows she didn’t make this up. 

But, then, just an hour ago, at Molly’s patio, when she had tried to bring up the subject. 

“Matt, thank you for yesterday.”

“It was nothing.”

“I think it was something, you jumped out of the truck, while Stella was driving.”

He had blushed, and Sylvie thought... she thought that meant he was into her. Which is like the dumbest, most juvenile way to describe it. But, he’s been there for her. For everything this past year. Julie. Amelia. Helping her move. Keeping her calm about Covid and the election. 

She had reached for his hand, but then he was pulling his back, and telling her about how important their friendship was. How she was a great friend. He must have said friend ten times. 

Okay, so, it was all clearly in her head. Trying to hide her disappointment, she claimed a headache and fled Molly’s. 

God, she hoped she hadn’t screwed up one of the most important relationships in her life. 

Except, clearly the relationship was not as important as she thought. 

Sylvie grabbed her phone and texted Emily. 

Sylvie Brett: I’m an idiot. Casey does NOT want me to jump him. Like, at all, ever. 

Tossing her phone into the table, Sylvie slumped sideways on the couch. 

Taylor was singing about New Money now, and honestly Sylvie wanted to move to Rhode Island to escape whatever this mess was. How could she have gotten it all so wrong? Giving up on her cleaning distraction, Sylvie decided instead to wallow, listen to folklore and eat ice cream. 

All she had was Mint Chip, which she had bought because it was Matt’s favourite, and he had stayed for dinner a while ago. Is this what she had to look forward to? Seeing things and thinking of Matt? Because, no thank you. 

Foster had texted her back. 

Emily Foster: sounds fake, but okay. So, we find you someone else. 

Sylvie Brett: not fake. 

Sylvie Brett: I really liked him, and I know I shouldn’t have, but I did. And now, everything sucks and you’re far away. 

Emily Foster: what about that cute Lieutenant from 87 who always winks at you. 

Sylvie Brett: Adam Greene? No. It’s a whole Hazmat Zach situation. 

Emily Foster: Kidd will have to help find you someone. 

Sylvie turned her ringer off, and threw her phone onto the armchair. That wasn’t helping. 

‘My Tears Ricochet’ was playing now, so Sylvie allowed herself to wallow in it. She ate her Mint Chip, and thought about Matt. His blue eyes. His gentle hands. His reserved laugh. His innate goodness. 

She was an idiot. 

‘Mirrorball’ echoed across the room. 

Okay, seriously? How did Taylor Swift do it? Because, this was unfair. 

From her prone position on the couch, Sylvie thought about how she had ended up here. She was thirty, and had two broken engagements to her name, and the heart break that was bothering her late at night was for the guy who she had never even kissed. 

Honestly, that was unfair. 

She wishes she had kissed him, just once before he had crushed her heart with his talk about friendship. And friends. And how she was his friend. And he had said friend so many times that it was almost comical. Almost. 

‘Seven’ came on. 

Then ‘August’. 

Sylvie found herself singing along, ‘’cause you were never mine’.

‘This is me trying’ actually made her cry. 

How pathetic was she? Matt wasn’t crying about her. He wasn’t pining after her. Which was fundamentally unfair. She was a catch! 

By the time ‘illicit affairs’ came on she was angrily folding her laundry. So what if Matt didn’t like her back? It’s not like he was some great romantic prospect! 

So, yes, he had those eyes, and that earnest facial express. But, he was also... kind, and sweet, and nice to look at. And, okay, Sylvie was going to be incredibly jealous of anyone he did bring home. Oh, what if he was right now falling in love with someone else at Molly’s?

Oh. 

Listen, ‘invisible string’ was just a great song. So, if she cried, it was because Taylor Swift was a lyrical genius, and Sylvie was just happy she had found Joe. It felt like she had grown up with Taylor. The evolution of it all, from country to pop, to unapologetically knowing herself, and then falling in love... and now folklore. 

That was such a good parallel for her life. Fowlerton to Chicago. Standing up for herself against bullies, and drug dealers, and partners who seemed content to dislike her and the job she had chosen. And then, she had found something of herself in Julie. Someone who cared about her in Matt. And now... now she just needed to course correct. 

Which was when ‘mad woman’ started to play. 

Seriously, was she coming to terms with this un-break up in the course of one album? Sylvie put the laundry away, and washed her ice cream bowl. 

‘Epiphany’ played, and Sylvie considered how everything about this year was crap. Why not throw this Matt mess on the fire too. It wasn’t going to kill her. It might bruise her heart, but it wouldn’t break. 

Singing along to ‘betty’ Sylvie relished each ‘fuck’. She was an adult, and she could cuss. There were no children here to be scandalized. Plus, she liked the banjo. 

‘Peace’ was just such a good song. Full stop. Sylvie listened to it lying on her back, looking up at her ceiling. It was sad, but the kind of hopeful sad that made her feel comforted. It reminded her of her grandparents, and how deeply they had loved each other. They were content to just be together. 

Privately, Sylvie thought ‘hoax’ was the beat song on the album. Something about the marriage of the lyrics and the music, the history of knowing Taylor Swift, the way it all melted together in this melancholy opus. This was Sylvie’s most played song from this album, she expected it to be her most played song when Spotify set her her yearly recap. 

This was the song that had been in her ear as she packed Emily up and sent her on her way. As she’d lived through replacement partners who didn’t measure up. It made sense for it to be the song that she was listening to as she tried to say goodbye to Matt. 

To the idea of Matt and her. 

What a silly idea. 

What a beautiful dream. 

Maybe, that was what she was supposed to learn from this. That dreaming was still okay? That all the dark things she had lived through meant that when she fell in love, really, truly in love, the person would be able to see her strength and weakness and love her all the more for knowing she wasn’t perfect. Maybe whoever that vague outline of a person was, was someone who would accept Sylvie for who she was. 

Because, Sylvie thinks, she has only ever been loved in half measures. 

Harrison didn’t love her independence. 

Joe didn’t love her restlessness. 

Antonio didn’t understand her well enough to love her. 

Kyle hadn’t known her enough to love her. Not really. He loved the idea of her that lived in his head. Kind and caring; not knowing she was also strong and fierce. 

And Matt... well, Matt didn’t love her. 

But, just here, sitting alone in her living room, Sylvie could admit to herself that she had loved Matt. Not just the idea of him. Honestly, she knew him. She had known him for years. She knew things about him that no one else in Chicago did. She knew his heart, and his head. She knew his darkness and his self doubt and she loved him anyway. 

That would have to be enough. She could love him, and let him go. Find a way to move on. 

‘Hoax’ ended and Sylvie grabbed her phone to stop Spotify from playing something else. Surprised she saw a whole slew of notifications. 

Foster. Stella. Gallo. Matt Casey. 

She had two missed calls from him, and when she navigates to her texts she read this:

Matt Casey: hey, can we talk?

Sylvie was trying to think of a reply when someone knocked at her door. Pushing up off the floor, she patted her hair and looked through the peephole. 

Matt. 

Surprised, Sylvie pulled her door open. 

“Matt?”

“I tried calling.” He seems agitated. 

“Sorry, I was...” Sylvie vaguely gestured to her apartment. 

“You left Molly’s so quick.”

“Well, yeah. I had finished my drink.”

Matt steps closer to her. Sylvie looks up at him, unsure and off kilter. 

“Sylvie.” He was definitely looking at her lips. Oh, no, did she have mint chip stains around her mouth? Before she could wipe at her lips Matt stepped even closer. “I’m an idiot.”

Perplexed, she asked, “what?”

“We can’t be friends.”

Oh. Oh. 

Okay, so he showed up at her apartment to end their friendship? When she was wrong about something, boy, was she wrong. 

Matt was still talking. “Because I don’t think that I expressed myself correctly, and Kidd came over and set me straight.”

Stella sent him here to end their friendship? Sylvie felt untethered and unsure. “What?”

“Because of how I feel about you.”

“You feel like we can’t be friends?”

Matt scrubbed at his face. “I’m messing everything up.” And then he did the one thing Sylvie was not expecting, he put a hand on her hip and pulled her closer. Hesitantly, like he was trying to read her face, Matt leaned in, and he... oh. 

He was kissing her. 

In a decidedly un-platonic away. 

And then the hand not at her hip, was touching her neck, was sliding into her hair. Sylvie brain was short circuiting. Matt was here, at her apartment. Matt was here, kissing her, in her doorway. And she was kissing him back. 

She was unsurprised to learn that his hair was as soft as she thought it would be. Unsurprised that his kissed like he had an advanced degree in it. She was surprised that he was kissing her though, after all that talk of friends, and friendship. 

“I’m so confused.” Matt was right there when she opened her eyes, millimeters from her lips, his eyes staring down at her. Sylvie tried again. “What is going on?”

“I’ve wanted to do that for months.”

“You have?” If possible, she was growing lighter by the second.

“Yes. Absolutely. Of course.”

“But, what about that speech about friendship?”

Matt groaned, and bent at the knees, just enough to press himself more against her. “I was trying to let you know that I was aware that moving forward would mean disrupting that friendship.”

Sylvie was practically floating, wrapping her arms around his neck. “Moving forward?”

“Dating.”

“You want to date me, Matt Casey?”

Matt walked her back two steps, pushed the door shut behind him and locked it. “I want to do everything with you, Sylvie Brett.”

“Well that’s good, because I’ve got plans.”

“What kind of plans?”

His hands on her body, made her bold. “All kinds of plans. So no more jumping out of moving fire trucks.” She held his gaze. 

“Deal. As long as I’m not trying to get to you, I’ll wait until it’s at a complete stop.”

“Promise?”

Matt was grinning at her, “I promise I’ll always get to you.”

Sylvie kissed him this time. She let him walk her back to her couch, holding onto him as he kissed her.

**Author's Note:**

> Tell me what you think, what you love, and what you want to happen in 9x02!!!


End file.
